now for the end
by ExitBear
Summary: This is an English translation of kaleidoscope memories piece "voilà la fin". Many thanks to the author and all others who have helped me with this work. I tried linking to the original story, but was unable to do so. Please look at kaleidoscope memories' profile to see the story in French.


now for the end

_Once upon a time__  
__There was a young girl who could have been a princess; she had hair of gold and eyes like a river__  
__(if only I had been prettier)__  
__But one day, she encountered a sorcerer with a black heart__  
__Who in fact was naught but her shadow __  
__(I do not know how, but it is my fault, I am sure of it)__  
__In the following days, she did not know what to do__  
__And preferred to hide her discovery__  
__(it would have been better if I had never known)__  
__But the seasons went by and the secrets multiplied__  
__The powerful lies became all-consuming__  
__She decided to set fire to her story__  
__Midnight for her had just passed away_  
_._  
It was so easy, too easy, to wear a mask in addition to these required dresses  
(masked balls don't have any appeal since I live through them every day)  
Her parents didn't really worry about her disappearances to her room;  
Because they were able to keep the appearance of her perfect royalty  
And also because a smile was stitched on her face and some make-up was added at the end to hide all traces of weeping  
And she tried to leave her heart behind  
Throw the key into oblivion, but ultimately she only increased the load weighing on her body  
She was the ugly duckling who never grew, it was too late  
Cinderella, forever in her rags  
The Litte Match Girl , knowing that the end would come tomorrow

Sand dripped down in her hour glass and she became better at her game  
She observed the birds and thought of the dragons  
An apple, rather of poison  
A forest, she had been lost there for a long time  
She wore an invisible veil that hid her thoughts  
She did not spend any more time thinking of it than was indicated by it shadow caught on her face  
Which came forth automatically, accompanied by a smile saying that all was splendid  
If only she could have had the good fortune to never have met a sorcerer, and to thus have avoided being cursed  
Sometimes, she longed to laugh at how easy it was to pretend  
After all, she told herself in the guise of reassurance, it is not like it is that serious to lie about this kind of thing  
And all that this brought was people who avoided having to show false empathy for her  
In addition to protecting her appearance as being the golden princess  
("And it makes you break a little more on the inside, my heart cries to me")

Days and nights alternated  
And she lied and smiled and hoped  
Even if she knew perfectly well that for all of this she was without hope  
It was probably her curse; this obligation to be messed up, to be missed, to be something that needed to be washed out  
(how can I be meant to be a star when I am naught but a moon without light)  
And she continued, walking walking falling  
Falling down, towards the bottom  
Of this self-dug hole  
But they were blinded by her years of practice  
It would all end there  
She who was hanging on by her fingertips, just until the time when she could climb up by herself  
They who believed that all would be well  
It came to her then, when they noticed nothing  
Perhaps they saw, but thought that it was nothing?  
That in fact, it was nothing but the complaints of a girl who exaggerated, who was too spoiled, too protected  
It was very much too difficult for them to raise their heads from their own stories and notice that clouds were hanging over her life

The pressure and problems accumulated  
And sometimes she did not know how to breathe  
("my fairy godmother, can you not help me?")  
Inhale, exhale, how do the others do it?  
("No, not unless it concerns your prince")  
She was obliged to put up with formal audiences, suppers, festivities; she became, after months of practice, an observer who hid her expressions  
Biting her cheeks, wringing her hands, screwing her thumbnails in her skin  
(forget forget forget  
you do not have the right to have help, you do not have the right for a break)  
She locked herself in her tower, two voices in her head, the one giving herself hell the other protesting feebly, so that she rolled her body like a child, hands tense on her ears  
("stupid, ugly, hideous, pathetic, weak weak weak, idiotic, arrogant, monstrous")  
("... f-false... ")

She advances - towards where?  
("What are your plans for today, princess?"  
I do not know, it is useless to dream, and my name is not princess)  
She walks - is it really worth the pain?  
("How are you, princess?"  
bad, horrible, I believe that I killed the sun - above all, do not call me princess!)  
She runs - what will save her?  
("Excuse me, princess, has something happened recently?"  
nothing, I am just crying on the inside, but that – it's not new - _I said not to call me princess!_)  
She knows that there is nothing here, nothing more than her and her shadow.  
She ran  
And ran  
And ran  
And jumped.


End file.
